Speaking My Language
by Kamkats
Summary: Apparently, Nate Johnson's Kiowa wasn't as good as he thought it was.


"Let's get out of here, and fast!" was the shout Rowdy Yates heard as he saw his trail boss galloping down the hill on his horse, Quince, Pete, and Nate in tow.

"What happened?" Rowdy called, not yet on his mount.

Mr. Favor brought his horse to a sharp halt at the bottom of the hill and gasped for air.

"Apparently Nate Johnson's Kiowa wasn't as good as he thought it was!" he said disdainfully, watching Nate ride away as quickly as he could.

"And?" Rowdy asked with a shrug. Mr. Favor rolled his eyes skyward with a look that said, "God help me".

"Now Eagle's Talon and his tribe of nutballs are after us!" the trail boss snapped, looking flustered. Rowdy widened his eyes.

"What exactly did he say?" he questioned.

Before the Boss could answer, whoops and hollers sounded from the other side of the hill, and were getting louder.

"Get on your horse and let's bite the dust!" Mr. Favor ordered. Rowdy's eyes went as wide as saucers when he saw Eagle's Talon leading a whole tribe of warriors right towards the drovers.

"Ya, sounds like a good idea!" the ramrod agreed, mounting his steed and "biting the dust".

37 minutes earlier….

"But it's unethical to charge me half the herd just to pass through your part of the land! What am I gonna tell the owners of the cattle?" Mr. Favor demanded, pretty furious with Eagle's Talon.

Eagle's Talon stood silent, his chin raised high in defiance.

"You _do_ know that I don't own any of those cattle, right?" Mr. Favor asked, standing akimbo.

"You _do_ know that Eagle Talon not own any of his land? On lease from brother, Fallen Sky. Don't you think unethical to let big herd through land that not Eagle Talon's?"

Mr. Favor blinked confusedly.

"What?" he barked.

"I not own land. Big brother not be happy if I ruin buffalo land with lots cattle!"

Mr. Favor threw his arms up in defeat, avoiding pointing out that Texas wasn't exactly buffalo land. "Well, can ya talk to Fallen Sky and explain to him my dilemma instead of taking half my cattle?"

Eagle's Talon raised his eyebrows.

"Fallen Sky on honeymoon. Not be back for good two months. Got one nice chick," he explained, laughing at the latter.

Nate, Pete, and Quince broke out laughing too, but Mr. Favor gave them a deadly look to silence them.

"You gotta understand I'm just passing through! I don't wanna harm yer brother's land!" the trail boss exclaimed.

Eagle's Talon was a tricky one; he quickly thought of a new excuse.

"Uh, Fallen Sky land sacred! For buffalo only, cattle unheard of! Kiowa ancestors not be happy if cattle on land!" he lied, nodding with extra certainty.

Mr. Favor rolled his eyes.

"Is there some way I can compensate for your ancestors displeasure?" he asked mildly.

Eagle's Talon grinned smugly.

"Yes," he started, "Ancestors want half cattle. Rest trail boss can have!"

Mr. Favor let out a half-scoff, half-shout in annoyance.

"Now we're back to square one!" he snapped, turning away and running his hand down his face in frustration.

"Can we make a new deal?" the trail boss suggested. Eagle's Talon shook his head and then started speaking Kiowa.

"What?" Mr. Favor spat, upset with the Indian chief.

Eagle's Talon continued speaking Kiowa just to spite the Boss. Pete stepped forward to offer his usual calm advice.

"Maybe Eagle's Talon would be more willin' to make a deal with someone who spoke his language?" he offered.

Mr. Favor sighed. "And where are we gonna get someone who speaks Kiowa?" he retorted.

Pete shrugged. "Nate Johnson speaks Kiowa," he noted. Mr. Favor turned stiffly to look over at Nate Johnson, who had just happened to have come with the trail boss when he went to speak with the Kiowa Indian chief.

"Now why didn't ya tell me you spoke Kiowa?" Mr. Favor asked very articulately.

Nate looked intimidated, but he just gave his boss an apologetic look.

"Didn't thank it was important," he murmured.

"Get over there!" Mr. Favor ordered gruffly, shoving Nate in front of Eagle's Talon.

Nate looked back at his boss with a pleading expression.

"Talk to him!" the boss commanded.

Nate inhaled deeply and then turned to Eagle's Talon. He then started speaking what seemed like gibberish to the rest of the drovers, but it seemed to make perfect sense to the chief.

Quince, Pete, and Mr. Favor listened to Nate, all full of suspense.

Suddenly, Eagle's Talon started shouting and widening his eyes, waving his arms wildly and scolding Nate in Kiowa.

"What did ya say to him?" Mr. Favor demanded.

Nate looked utterly confused as he backed away cautiously from Eagle's Talon.

"I dunno!" he shouted hopelessly, "He just started yellin' at me when I asked about making a deal!"

"Someth'n tells me we should get outta here," Quince hissed to the Boss.

All the Kiowa Indians started narrowing their eyes and closing in on the drovers. Mr. Favor bit his lower lip, feeling like him and his men were in for it. Suddenly, he thought of a way out of his fix.

"Look!" he shouted in mock-astonishment, pointing off into the distance. All the Indians turned to look where the boss was pointing, allowing the drovers to make a quick getaway.

As the drovers ran away, Mr. Favor turned to his scout.

"Whatddaya think Nate said?" he demanded harshly.

Pete huffed as he ran and pushed his hat up, putting on his figurin' face.

"Well, just from my high school Kiowa, I'd say Nate told Eagle's Talon to uh…" he stopped himself from saying the rest.

"What?" Quince and Mr. Favor shouted simultaneously.

Pete screwed up his nose and kept on running.

"I think Nate told Eagle's Talon to uh…take his staff and…shove it,"

Mr. Favor and Quince turned to look at the drover.

"Nate!" they scolded.

Nate looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die, but he just kept running. Mr. Favor pursed his lips and shook his head.

"Terrific," he muttered.

"Hey," Nate shouted defensively, "I didn't know what I was sayin'!"

"Apparently!" Mr. Favor shot back. He then turned back to his scout with a scorning look.

"And you said he could speak Kiowa!" he chastised Pete.

Pete stopped when they got to their horses and quickly untied his from the tree.

"It ain't my fault! Nate's the one with the big mouth!" he explained as he mounted his buckskin horse. Nate and Quince mounted just as hastily and galloped their horses back towards the camp.

ooooOOOOOooooooo

Halfway back to the camp, Mr. Favor signaled for his drovers to halt. He put one hand on the back of his saddle and looked behind him.

"I don't see er hear 'em," he noted.

Rowdy nodded and pulled his horse up next to the Boss's.

"Maybe they gave up?" he suggested. "Not likely," Mr. Favor murmured. He then turned to his ramrod and cracked a slight smile.

"'Sides," he started, "If someone told _me_ take my gun and shove it, they wouldn't be sittin' down for a _very long time_."

He gave his ramrod a very piercing look at the latter.

Rowdy swallowed hard and gave his boss an innocent look.

"Well…um, why don't we get back to camp and…uh," he trailed off, "And get back to camp!"

Rowdy then spurred his horse ahead of the others and raced back to the herd.

Mr. Favor rolled his eyes and shook his head.

When the drovers arrived, they were shocked at what they saw. Mr. Favor raised his eyebrows as he dismounted and scratched his head.

"Son of a gun," Pete muttered, staring at Eagle's Talon, who was sitting by the supply wagon, using two drovers on their fours as a throne.

"Watch it!" Teddy and Mushy protested, getting stepped on by Eagle's Talon as he got down off his throne and approached the trail boss.

"How'd you get here so fast?" Mr. Favor asked furiously.

"We took shortcut!" Eagle's Talon replied matter-of-factly.

Mr. Favor palm-slapped his forehead and then huffed.

"Get off my men!" he ordered. Eagle's Talon narrowed his eyes and stomped on Mushy's head one more time before settling down on the hard ground.

"His head's gonna be real _Mushy_ now!" Rowdy whispered to Quince.

Mushy moaned and rubbed his head.

"What do you think you're doing in my camp? You can't just march in here and act like you're boss!" Mr. Favor scolded the chief.

Eagle's Talon snorted.

"Oh? Like Favor did less ten minutes go?" he said sarcastically. Mr. Favor closed his eyes momentarily and sighed.

"Listen, I'm sorry about what happened back there," the trail boss started, "I thought Nate here could communicate with you properly and make some sort of a deal-"

"Ha!" Eagle's Talon shouted scornfully. All of his followers laughed with him and crossed their arms.

"Make deal? More like insult Eagle Talon and tell him do physically impossible things with sacred staff!"

Rowdy snorted with amusement and Pete snickered, all while Nate blushed.

"I'm sorry. Again, it was a mistake," Mr. Favor explained, "Nate doesn't speak Kiowa very well and he got a little carried away."

Eagle's Talon cocked an eyebrow and mulled over what the Boss said with a dubious expression.

"Trail boss seek forgiveness? No forgiveness until he fork over cattle!" he said suddenly. Mr. Favor widened his eyes.

"I ain't forkin' over any cattle! I don't need to! I'll just backtrack through the plains and take the long way around!" he snapped.

"Trail boss take big chance. Might lose much cattle if not watered soon. But…trail boss does what he think best," Eagle's Talon said with a shrug.

"If I lose a couple hundred head…that's the chance I'll have to take. But I don't need any wheelin' n' dealin' Indian chief to tell me how to run my outfit!" Mr. Favor argued.

The drovers all exchanged uncertain glances and Pete stepped forward.

"Um…," he murmured, "We can't take the long way around."

Mr. Favor took Pete aside.

"Repeat that?"

"If we take the long way around, we ain't gonna be goin' through any plains! That's badlands out there. We might as well fork over half the cattle right here and now if we have to drive through that trail. It's no good I tell ya!" the scout explained angrily.

"You're just a box full of surprises today, Pete," Mr. Favor growled.

Pete shrugged. "Sorry," he apologized.

The trail boss turned back to the Indians and inhaled deeply.

"There's no chance we can haggle the amount of cattle down?" he pried.

Eagle's Talon pursed his lips and widened his eyes.

"Half of herd or no safe pass! Less of half would be insult to Kiowa ancestors! And now because of bad drover insult, I take sixteen hundred cattle!" he declared. Mr. Favor nodded and waved him off.

"Fine," he muttered. He then turned to the men and stood up straight.

"Quince," he said, "Take the men and cut out sixteen-hundred steers." it was an order he hated and never thought he would have to give; but, the time had come.

Quince went slack jawed.

"But Mr. Favor-!" he protested.

"Do it!" the trail boss barked,

Rowdy put his hand up for silence. "Hey Boss," he said wryly, "It's been a hot day today…and don't ya think the men should have a _drink_ 'fore rootin' out all them beeves?"

Mr. Favor frowned in confusion, but then caught his ramrod's drift.

"Ah," he said, seeing the light, "That's right! Surely you men must be thirsty?"

The drovers frowned and exchanged glances again.

Scarlet furrowed his brow in confusion. "Well, I'm not-"

Pete jabbed his elbow into Scarlet's stomach and hissed at him, "Say you're thirsty!"

Scarlet gave the scout a disdainful look before nodding to his boss.

"I'm dry as a bone!" he declared.

Mr. Favor smiled slightly and turned to his ramrod.

"Rowdy," he said, "Go get the whiskey. And hurry it up! I don't want to lose any of my drovers!"

Rowdy ran to the chuck wagon and snagged a bottle of whiskey.

"Now what in the devil's name are ya doin' with that whiskey?" Wishbone demanded, grabbing Rowdy by his shirt sleeve and stopping him.

"Mr. Favor wants it!" he retorted.

Wishbone narrowed his eyes and let go of the ramrod.

"Alright then," he replied, "Why didn't ya say so in the first place?"

When Rowdy returned with the creature, the Indians saw it and their eyes went as round as saucers.

Eagle's Talon tried to pretend he wasn't interested, but his mouth watered when Mr. Favor offered him a drink.

"Can I interest you in a drink, Eagle's Talon?" he offered.

Eagle's Talon hesitated for a nanosecond, but then gave in.

"One drink not hurt," he convinced himself aloud.

All the drovers raised their glasses and drank only the littlest bit of the whiskey, now picking up on the trail boss's plan. Teddy and Bailey clinked their glasses together and shared a good laugh before going bottoms up.

"Easy now!" Mr. Favor warned them quietly, "We want _them_ drunk, not you! I can't have ya fallin' outta yer saddles when we get the herd movin'. Got it?"

"Sure thing, Boss," Bailey said with a nod.

"Good," Mr. Favor murmured before walking back to check on the chief.

"The whiskey up to standards?" he asked in a sugar-sweet tone with an underlying hint of cold contempt.

Eagle's Talon grinned. "More before Eagle Talon leaves!" he commanded, holding his glass out for more of the creature.

"My pleasure," Mr. Favor replied kindly, pouring the Indian chief another full glass.

Before long, each Kiowa Indian had more than their fair share of whiskey, and were smashed out of their minds.

Quince and Scarlet beamed with satisfaction and cackled, watching the last Kiowa drop to the ground.

"Them Indians are suckers for a good drink!" Scarlet jeered.

Pete snorted with disgust at the drunken Indians. "They're suckers for drinks anyhow. They'll take the good and the bad," he muttered.

"And the ugly," Rowdy said with a grin.

Quince and Scarlet gave him a confused look and Rowdy shook his head mildly.

"Forget it, just…forget it," he grumbled before walking off.

Mr. Favor clapped his hands together to get his men's attention.

"Alright," he started, "I want this herd moving as quickly as possible before those Indians wake up! Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal!" Quince said happily.

"Right then," the trail boss replied, "Head 'em up, move 'em out!"

ooooOOOOOOooooooo

As Nate rode swing with his horse, he lamented about how bad his Kiowa really was. Man, he had really gotten Mr. Favor into quite a fix with his bad language skills. He hoped he'd never see another Kiowa for as long as he lived. That's when Rowdy came riding up next to him.

"Happy with yourself?" the ramrod jabbed.

"Pfft," Nate slurred, "I cain't help it if Eagle's Talon took what I said the wrong way."

Rowdy laughed incredulously. "How could he have taken it the wrong way if you told him to shove a staff up his-"

"I said it figuratively, not literally!" Nate said defensively.

"Ah," Rowdy said, "So you _knew_ what it was you were saying the whole time?"

Nate narrowed his eyes. "No, I did not! But when that injun's eyes went wider than a canyon, that's when I realized what I had said. I _knew_ it didn't sound right," he explained.

"Well," Rowdy started, "When we reach the end of this trail, I'm taking you to school so you can take a course in Kiowa!"

Nate rolled his eyes. "Good luck with that," he shot back.

ooooOOOOOOoooooo

Back in the clearing where the trail drive had been, Eagle's Talon was waking up.

"Uhnnn…," he groaned, "That must been some party last night!"

All the other Indians woke up, rubbing their heads and hiccuping. Eagle's Talon stood up and cracked his back, but then gasped when he saw the empty clearing. What? The cowboys were gone! What kind of a trick had this been? That's right…he remembered everything. The trail boss had gotten him and all his followers drunk! This was an outrage! Not only had the impudent trail boss gotten away with insulting Eagle's Talon, but also driving cattle through scared land!

" _Favorrrrrrrr_!" he shouted at the sky.

oooooOOOOOOooooooo

"Say," Rowdy said to the trail boss, "You hear that? Sounded like someone shouting,"

"Nope," Mr. Favor said with a grin that told Rowdy otherwise.

The End

Thanks for reading!


End file.
